


thirsty

by perculious



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perculious/pseuds/perculious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps if Haru had passed through the kingdom right away, he could be at the nearest oasis by now. But by now he was too dehydrated to leave without refreshment, and refreshment could only be granted by the sultan.</p><p>(or: Haruka Nanase's private fantasies)</p><p>((not an actual desert AU))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwing/gifts).



> this was a commission for tumblr user revtomdildomolar and I'm so glad because it was super fun.
> 
> (please note: there's some dubcon in this, kind of, but it's all fantasizing, so no real dubcon occurs)

Perhaps if Haru had passed through the kingdom right away, he could be at the nearest oasis by now. But now he was too dehydrated to leave without refreshment, and refreshment could only be granted by the sultan.

(Haru lay back on the bed and unbuttoned his pants. He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and pulled down his pants and his swimsuit, which was still a little sticky from practice. The hair at the back of his neck was still damp from the shower. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, appreciating the feel of the cool sheets on his thighs.)

Haru stood in the stone courtyard of the palace. He had no love for beggaring himself in this way, and especially not before such a cruel man. But it was his only choice. From market gossip, Haru had gathered that the locals had their own ways of surviving, but for a humble traveling merchant passing through, seeking an audience with the sultan was his only chance of making it to the next kingdom without dying of thirst.

Haru reflexively pressed his fingertips to his throat. It had been a full day already since he'd had anything to drink, and he was dried out.

(Haru cupped his dick with one lotion-slicked hand, adjusting his hips a little to settle into position.)

Preceded by a group of fan-waving servants, the sultan finally arrived in the courtyard. He waved the servants away and stood alone, facing Haru.

Haru fought to conceal his surprise. Swathed in luxurious fabrics, with smooth pale skin and dark eyes, luminous maroon hair and a lithe form, the wicked sultan was a vision. No... he was beautiful. He glanced over Haru once, then twice, like he hadn’t been looking properly the first time. And then he grinned, his teeth sharp like daggers.

“So I heard you’re interested in my water,” the sultan said, his voice low. Something about it dragged right across Haru’s nerves. The sultan had some kind of mysterious sway over him.

(Haru gripped himself loosely, letting himself slip in and out of his hand.)

Haru tried to moisten his lips before he spoke, but his tongue was dry.

“Yes,” he said. “I need something to drink.”

"That’s not important to me,” the sultan said, raking his eyes up and down Haru's body. “What are you willing to do for it?”

Haru closed his eyes and shivered.

(Haru bit his lip.)

"I'll do anything," Haru said, knowing full well the implications of what he was offering. The thirst was overwhelming, his throat like sandpaper.

“Anything?” the sultan said. Haru opened his eyes and looked at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “How about all your wares?”

Haru nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Hm,” the sultan said. "Would you accept a position in my personal harem?"

Haru wasn't expecting it, and the sultan's words crashed over him like a wave. He kept his face absolutely still, not betraying how quickly his heart was pounding.

He was silent for a moment and then he said, shortly, "Yes."

(Haru curled in around himself and pushed his face into the pillow, his cheeks hot.)

There was a pause during which every possibility hung in the air—was he going to request Haru's services immediately?—and then the sultan said slowly, "No. I have a better idea."

Haru frowned in confusion. The sultan rose from his throne. His outfit showed off his chest and stomach, the dark colors setting off his red-purple hair. He looked beautiful and dangerous, like a shard of stained glass. Haru felt an anxious—or was it... excited?—thrill in the pit of his stomach.

Carefully, deliberately, the sultan took one of the water pots sitting by the throne. He held it above his head with one taut, muscled arm and began to pour it in a thin stream all over himself.

(Haru caught a moan in his throat, clapping his free hand over his mouth. His breath was harsh and hot against his palm.)

The water poured over the sultan's hair, first dampening and then soaking it, and trickled down in rivulets over his chest and abs. It dripped off his eyelashes and his hair, and moistened his lips so they glistened. Haru let out a soft cry. He had never been so thirsty in his life.

The sultan shook his head and a drop of water hit Haru's cheek. Haru trembled.

He poured more water over the back of his hand, so that it was dripping off his skin, and held it out to Haru.

"Kneel down," he said, "and suck it off my fingers."

(Haru wrenched his hand away, panting. He'd almost come.)

Haru took a few steps forward, and sank down to his knees on the cool stone floor. The sultan poured even more water onto his hand. Haru opened his parched mouth, swallowing once, although his mouth was dry. The sultan pushed two wet fingers into Haru's mouth. Haru groaned, sucking hard, his tongue lapping up the few drops on the sultan’s fingertips. The sultan continued to pour water down his forearm, letting it drip down into Haru's mouth, although some of it ended up trickling down his chin.

(Haru started touching himself again, lightly, just with his fingertips.)

Without warning, the sultan withdrew his fingers from Haru's mouth. Haru glanced up at him, concerned—hadn't he done it right?—but the sultan just reached for another pot and casually tipped it over to pour on his own head again.

Haru felt like crying. All he'd gotten was a few drops. But then the sultan angled an impatient look down at Haru, and he got it.

(Haru began to fist himself again, already working himself back up to the edge.)

He shuffled forward on his knees and pressed his lips to the sultan's taut stomach, sticking out his tongue to lap up the thin stream of water that flowed down the sultan's abs into his gauzy pants.

"Yes," the sultan breathed, and Haru moaned in response. To get more leverage, he grabbed hold of the sultan's calves with both hands and pulled his body closer, lavishing him with his tongue. He could taste the faint tang of sweat as he licked and sucked at the sensitive skin.

(Haru's breath was so ragged he was almost gasping.)

The sultan's hands must have been getting less steady, because some of the water was hitting Haru, dripping from his bangs down his cheeks and neck. Haru was damp but still thirsty, unsatisfied with the drops the sultan was allowing him. He drew back and looked up at the sultan. Staring him straight in the eyes, unflinching, the sultan opened his mouth and poured a stream of water directly into it.

(There was tension coiling tight in Haru's limbs and in his stomach.)

Haru barely even hesitated. He rose to his feet and crushed his open mouth against the sultan's. In doing so, he had stepped right into the stream, but the sultan didn't put the pot down, water splashing down all over both of them. Haru was getting soaked. Everything was a rush of tongues and heat and Rin's sharp teeth cutting into Haru's lip—Haru might have tasted blood—he could feel the water drenching his body and he pressed closer to Rin, his exposed stomach sliding up against Rin's slick skin—Rin threaded damp fingers into Haru's hair—

—and—

Haru came, his hips jerking. He rode it out, his thighs shaking, his mind full of _Rin Rin Rin_ —not the sultan, not the thirsty traveling merchant, but Rin, and how badly Haru wanted to kiss him. He focused on breathing in and out, willing himself not to think about anything else.

He rolled onto his back on the mattress and threw an arm over his eyes. His body felt good, humming with the afterglow, but there was an uneasiness in his chest, and still a hint of tension in his shoulderblades.

Deliberately, he pushed himself out of his bed, walked to the bathroom, and stuck his head under the faucet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a follow-up to this for tumblr user revtomdildomolar's birthday last year, so I figured I might as well post it.
> 
> The first one was definitely meant to stand alone though, which is why this little follow-up/epilogue is in a different tense, OOPS.

Rin gapes at Haru, unsure how exactly he's supposed to react. Haru is still talking, even though Rin would have thought he'd have run out of details to articulate about his desert sex world ten minutes ago. Very little of this sexual fantasy seems to have anything to do with sex.

"Wait, wait," he says, cutting Haru off. Haru closes his mouth, but his gaze at Rin is vaguely accusatory, like he's filing away the fact that Rin interrupted him in the back of his mind for further consideration later. "Go back a sec."

Haru hesitates. "What, the courtyard fountains?"

"No." Rin waves a hand at Haru, impatient. They're lying on Rin's bed, and Haru's face is only about six inches away from his. "So do you end up doing it, or not?"

"What do you mean?" Haru says. Even his nonplussed face is at least five times more beautiful than Rin thinks should be allowed, with his big dark eyelashes blinking at Rin and his eyebrows drawn slightly down. "I told you—"

"Yeah, I know," Rin says. "You lick water off my stomach, and then we make out, and then probably have sex in one of the fountains, but do you end up actually joining my personal harem?"

"You're just bluffing," Haru says. His hand is resting on Rin's waist, and he taps his fingers idly. "You just want to test me to see if I'll say yes. You don't actually plan to keep me locked up in the palace."

"Who said anything about locked up?" Rin shifts forward a little, and his hair falls into his eyes. He shakes his head to brush it aside. "I'm sure you'd have free reign of the palace and everything."

Haru shakes his head slowly. "No," he says. "I leave after I get the water. And I take Makoto with me."

"You take Makoto?" Rin frowns, and withdraws a little so Haru's fingers slip off his waist. "Why?"

"Because he was the one who told me how to get water," Haru explains. "And he wants to get away from his dull life as a camel attendant in the bazaar. So I take him with me, and then we travel together after that."

"Why don't you take _me_ with you?" Rin says.

Haru's face is completely impassive. "Because you're the sultan," he says. "You wouldn't just leave your kingdom, Rin. That wouldn't make any sense."

Rin can't believe he's getting frustrated over this, but he is; there's this static rising underneath his breastbone that he recognizes as the feeling he had for the weeks before the relay, saying _you're not good enough, Haruka doesn't care about you, no one cares about you_. It's been a couple months since the relay and a few weeks since he and Haru started dating, but he still feels it, like lingering pain in a phantom limb.

"Yeah, but why wouldn't you stay with me, and then you can spend as much time with Mako as you want because he lives in my kingdom? Why do you have to leave?"

"I'm a traveling merchant," Haru says. "So it's my job."

"What, and I wouldn't provide for you? In my _palace_?" His voice rises on the last word. Rin clamps his mouth shut and lets the last thirty seconds catch up to him in a rush of shame. He's coming off as needy and pathetic and it's over Haru's dumb desert water deprivation fantasy.

Haru considers for a moment, and then he says, "Do you want me to stay in the palace, Rin?"

"Uh," Rin says, feeling his cheeks flush. "It's your fantasy, Haru, do whatever you want."

"Okay," Haru says. He leans in and presses his lips to Rin's.

It's a soft, sweet kiss, and it briefly cools the heat rising in Rin's chest. It takes Rin a moment to remember to close his eyes. Haru shifts closer and raises a hand to cup Rin's cheek. Rin can feel Haru's breath on his cheek, and he's intensely aware of the heavy shape of Haru's body so close to his. He exhales slowly against Haru's mouth. Haru's fingers ghost over his waist again, and Rin leans into the touch.

Haru starts to draw back, but Rin's not ready for that yet, so he slides his face down to the crook of Haru's neck. He can feel Haru playing with his hair, twisting it around his fingers.

"How did I get to be sultan anyway?" Rin mumbles into Haru's throat. "Do I come from a royal family? What's my harem like? Is it girls? Am I expected to produce an heir?"

"Rin," Haru says.

"I'm only saying—it seems foolish of you not to have thought this through," Rin says.

"You're a pain," Haru says.

"You started it," Rin shoots back immediately, because it's true.

"Shut up," Haru says. Rin lifts his head, and Haru kisses him again. His hand on Rin's side nudges him towards Haru, urging him to roll over and kiss him properly.

Rin pulls back and scowls.

"Rin." Haru looks annoyed.

"Maybe I disguise myself and run away with you and Makoto," Rin says. "That's a much better ending."

"You're ruining it," Haru says, petulant.

"You're the freak who fantasizes about being thirsty," Rin says.

Haru props himself up on his elbows. "Rin," he says, "I don't care about the part afterwards. I care about the part where you pour water on me." Then, urgent: "That's the _only_ thing I care about."

"Oh." Rin searches Haru's face for romantic sentiment, but Haru just looks annoyed.

"Come on," Haru says, and tugs Rin towards him again. Rin leans over to press his mouth to Haru's, tossing his arm over Haru's stomach. Haru pulls at his shirt until Rin climbs on top of him, his weight pressing Haru down on the bed. Haru half-sighs and relaxes under him, wrapping his arms around Rin's torso, and Rin's stomach twists itself up with desire and helpless affection. He kisses Haru over and over, feeling almost guilty, like it's a luxury he can't quite afford.

Rin wants to pull back and ask if he was at least right about them doing it in the fountain, but Haru opens his mouth against Rin's and softly tugs on his hair, so he lets it go. He can just get it from Makoto later, anyway.


End file.
